


Wherein Your RA isn't a Werewolf (but she is something weird)

by Runwildwithme (NectarinesAndSourThings)



Series: Tales from the Else [1]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Feather's didn't always know about elsewhere fuckery!, Gen, Not-Jenna is an obligate carnivore, Not-Jenna just wants to be a good RA! That's all!, Second person POV, She sure does find out tho!!, and has strange eating habits, the swamp hag is briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24159436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NectarinesAndSourThings/pseuds/Runwildwithme
Summary: There’s something wrong with your RA.God, that sounds cliche. Two months into your first year at college, and you’re jumping at shadows and convinced that there’s ~something wrong~ with your RA, of all people. Not your roommate, or any of the other girls in your dorm, but your RA.But- but there is. You know it in your bones.Yeah. like you said: cliche. Doesn't make it any less true.
Series: Tales from the Else [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/815868
Comments: 16
Kudos: 70





	Wherein Your RA isn't a Werewolf (but she is something weird)

**Author's Note:**

> Ever wondered how Feathers figured out EU was home to a fairy hill? me neither, but she sure decided I needed to know about it! This was a remarkably fast write, which just goes to show I need to intersperse more of my weird-eerie-nearly-horror writing bouts with silliness.
> 
> As always, lovelies, please enjoy!!!

There’s something wrong with your RA. 

God, that sounds cliche. Two months into your first year at college, and you’re jumping at shadows and convinced that there’s ~ _something wrong~_ with your _RA_ , of all people. Not your roommate, or any of the other girls in your dorm, but your RA. 

But. 

But there _is._ You know it in your bones. 

Yeah. Cliche. 

In your defense, your college is weird. Weird feel in the air, weird traditions, weird weird weird all the way down. 

(And it always has been, apparently. Your mom went by ‘Dove’ for most of the four years she attended, and your Aunt went by Pigeon. You only know this because they still call each other by their bird names. That’s what they call them: their _bird_ names. So weird.) 

Not so weird that you didn’t play along during orientation, though, and that means that two months in and you’re still introducing yourself as Tweetybird. 

(Look. _Look_. You blanked, and all you could think was _bird names,_ and Tweetybird happened. It is what it is.)

So. Your college name is Tweetybird and there’s something wrong with your RA, and you’re in a bit of a bind about it: normally, when you have a problem with a dormmate, you go to the RA about it. 

Yeah. You can just imagine _that_ conversation. Not gonna happen. 

It’s her eyes. 

Ok, no, it’s a lot of fucking things, but her eyes are the worst. Not the worst. The most obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t notice before. 

You’ve only ever seen her eat meat. Really, really rare meat, and only ever in the middle of the night, standing in front of the open fridge while she chows down at like, two am. 

She has the weirdest fucking schedule, and either she skips more classes than she goes to, or... or something. You don’t know. She’s got a weird schedule, but she’s always writing essays, and about the weirdest shit. Serial killers, ethical violations, people going mad- she’s on a kick right now about ‘contagious’ mental issues, like mass hallucinations and how all the Salem Witch accusers started having the same kind of violent fits. Weird shit. 

She can turn her head a little bit too far around. You’re not joking. It’s not super noticeable, but man does it hit you right in the uncanny valley. 

And her eyes glow. Or. They don’t quite glow. It’s something about how the light reflects off her eyes, sometimes. Sometimes it looks like they’re ...backlit, or something. 

You know this all sounds crazy, and like you’re losing it. _You know._

But shit. _Shit_ your RA is weird. 

And!! She’d never heard of Mean Girls until dorm 5 had a movie night, and she’s never heard of all sorts of pop culture and _she doesn’t even own a phone._ That’s almost weirder than the meat thing. 

(You would say it’s _definitely_ weirder than the meat thing, because hell, _who doesn’t own a phone_ , and dietary restrictions are a thing, but like. Shit. You have never seen someone eat barely-cooked meat the way Jenna does. It’s. It’s fucking unsettling.)

You’re also pretty sure she uses a type-writer for her essays??? Like. Just one more cherry of weird on top of a whole bizzarro sundae. 

So yeah. There’s something wrong with your RA. 

And you feel bad thinking that! You do. Because she’s _nice_ , friendly, and has time for you and all the other freshman, and shows you shortcuts on campus and where the best cafeteria is, tells you who all the best professors are, and and and. 

You don’t want to be freaked out by your RA! Until about a week ago you hadn’t noticed any of this shit, but you came back from a weekend home (your mom did your laundry while you slept off seven weeks of stress, _bless her_ ) and suddenly all you can see is how fucking _strange_ she is. 

None of that explains _why_ you’re so convinced there’s something wrong, though. 

Ugh. UGH. 

You’re freaked out and you don’t know what to do. 

—

Jenna stops you the next morning, asks if you want to grab breakfast with her.

This, of course, actually means she just wants to walk to the bakery and stare at the pastries while you grab something to eat. Like you said: Jenna only eats meat, and only at creepyweird hours of the night. 

You say yes anyway.

Look. It’s Tuesday, and the Tuesday pastries -chocolate chip muffins- are _really good._

Jenna seems cheered by your agreement, which makes you feel immediately bad. 

You hadn’t realized how much time you’d been spending with her until you started avoiding her. 

“It’s a full moon tonight,” she says, conversational, and you nod. You’d heard that already. 

That’s another weird thing: everyone on campus is _super_ aware of the lunar cycle. 

....you’re pretty sure Jenna’s not a werewolf. You’ve seen her on full moons before. 

God you’re so weird _werewolves aren’t real._

Speaking of, though:

“I heard one of the frats- Episilon Omega, I think - is planning a werewolf-themed party tonight.’ You say, and she snorts, disgusted. 

‘That’s just _stupid_ ,’ she says, clip-clopping in her heels a little bit harder to emphasize it. 

‘I dunno,’ you shrug. ‘Sounds like it could be fun.’

She frowns at you for that, though, so you shrug again. 

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going. I have a midterm tomorrow.’ You tell her, and she relaxes, huffs out a _good._

Weird as she is, Jenna does seem to have all your best interests in mind. You make a mental note to tell the other dorm five freshmen that Jenna doesn’t seem to like EO. She has good instincts about these kinds of things.

The conversation dies off, leaving a comfortable silence to accompany you the long way around to the bakery.

(The sprinklers on the shortest route always leak onto the paths, and Jenna doesn’t like to get her shoes wet. Also, you’re about to eat just... _so many_ calories in the form of buttery carbs, you can absolutely stand to go the long way round.) 

You decide to try to stop noticing how ( _deeply_ , _concerningly_ ) weird Jenna is. You like her, she’s a good friend. College is full of weird people! For all you know she grew up in a cult. 

Actually, that makes sense. Jenna grew up in a cult, and EU is her first time being able to really interact with the real world. Of course she’d have weird quirks! Yeah. (you resolve to _never ever_ ask for confirmation. That’d be weird. And rude.)

—

Your college is so much fucking weirder than you ever knew holy SHIT why did your mom send you here _how could she not have known._

Did she make a deal? Did she agree to trade her firstborn _(you!)_ for something? Do you need to worry about something _stealing you away?_

No, no, that’s ridiculous. Aunt D- _Pigeon, holy bejeesus the bird names were safe names-_ your aunt went here too. She would have warned you, right? 

Right. Definitely. 

Probably. Oh god you need to buy so much salt. And iron! That’s a thing- _the washers they passed out in orientation_ dear god _the college knows-_

Is this whole place some weird sort of trap? No, no, that’s- that can’t be right. If too many people went missing it would get out. People would know. 

... _why didn’t you know about this before now?_

Deep breaths. It’s (probably) fine. So there’s some sort of cannibalistic swamp hag creature living behind the sports field and your college has been invaded by faeries! Big deal! You don’t like sports anyway you can just _never go there again-_

\--

Jenna finds you curled up in the nook between your bed and your closet when you don’t leave for breakfast, lunch, _or_ your favorite psych class. 

Turns out Jenna _isn't_ ! You so fucking _called it_ your RA is so deeply, concerningly, supernaturally weird, possibly possessing her body, and you have never been less happy to be right. 

She’s still a good friend, though, you guess. 

\--

Good news: Jenna isn’t a ghost, she’s a changeling. So. Jot that down, you guess. 

(when you asked if ghosts were a thing you needed to worry about, Jenna had to ask if you believed in them. ‘Not really?’ you told her, ‘though I’m suddenly more willing to re-assess!’ which apparently means the answer is _‘probably_ not.’) 

A non-comprehensive list of things Jenna (not really Jenna, though? You know faeries have a whole _thing_ about names though, so it’s not like you can _ask_ but you feel weird just ...calling her Jenna when you _know_ it’s not her real name, or even something she chose) tells you:

  * There’s a dragon (oh, excuse you, a _“wyrm”_ because _that’s_ what’s important) underneath the old english building, and it _will_ eat you if you go down there.
  * The Wild Hunt is an actual thing that happens sometimes. (And you are never staying out past dark again, thanks very much.)
  * The ceramics program isn’t joking AT ALL about their kiln god. (little ‘g’, she assures you.) (that’s not actually what was freaking you out, but _thanks_ , you guess.) It used to eat people. (OF COURSE IT DID.)
  * The weird glass sculpture has a name, and is very much (probably) malevolent. 
  * The demonic-looking, vaguely-horse-shaped thing, despite appearances, _isn’t_ malevolent, loves cheap mardi-gras bead necklaces, will _trade its teeth for them what the fuck Jenna,_ and is in fact named Jimothy. Because sure, why not. 
  * “Stay the fuck away from the squirrels.” and absolutely no further elaboration.
  * Not to fuck with the crows. If you ever get very lost, if the crows love you, they’ll lead you home. They like poetry and thermodynamics. 



You think you might have been catching on to that last one? There’s a tree in the grassy area in front of the library you like to read under, and you’ve noticed more crows show up when you have a poetry book. Looking back, you think at least one was reading over your shoulder a couple of times. 

Jenna (not Jenna? Maybe even _Not-Jenna_?) seems a little grumpy when you tell her about that, but says it’s fine. Crows are good friends to have, and they aren’t really ‘good neighbors,’ so there’s a little more lee-way, as far as words and debts and promises go. 

That works out, as far as you’re concerned. You like crows- they’re smart, and clever, and just, very cool.

You decide to change your name to Corvus. It sounds way cooler than Tweetybird, anyway, and apparently you live in a fairytale now. 

Yeah, you think, Corvus is a much better name. 


End file.
